


Flightless Bird, Grounded Wings

by spiderlillium



Series: The King and The Concubine [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual, Consensual Sex, F/M, Game of Thrones-esque, M/M, Multi, Pedophilia, Size Difference, Size Kink, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2089224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderlillium/pseuds/spiderlillium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi and Erwin, and eight years in between.</p><p>|Game of Thrones inspired|</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flightless Bird, Grounded Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: This work has touches of pedophilia in the beginning.

 

His boy is one part honey and two parts spice, and Erwin loves him for it.

The way he parts his milky, shapely legs for him almost meekly sends all of his blood down his cock. Levi is beautiful, pliant, young, _oh_ , so young, but he doesn't care that its wrong to touch someone so innocent (Erwin scoffs at the word – Levi's innocence is already gone, long before he had him) because he is the King; and what are Kings to do but take what is rightfully theirs?

“Come on, Usurper,” Levi spoke in a tone that is taunting the night Erwin ascended the throne. “Come and have your prize.”

Oh, and what _wonderful_ prize Levi was.

His taste is burning his tongue, like the kind of sweetness you experience when you take a mouthful of nectar. Levi's skin is supple smooth and unbelievably soft, and his hair smells like roses when Erwin takes him in his arms and holds him close. His breath and his tongue tastes like mint and sugar, and when Erwin rubs his own appendage against his, Levi hums in delight, like had been given a rare treat.

Erwin's armor and clothes are quickly stripped away as the boy rests his back to the numerous, down pillows and spreads his thighs a little wider, inviting, _presenting_ himself to the King for the taking. Erwin almost growls as the boy rubs himself, teasing him, his little cock already flushed and erect.

The faint scent of roses floods his nostrils again when he licks down a strip of skin of Levi's creamy thigh, and when he takes the pink-tipped cock into his mouth, Erwin realizes where the fragrance comes from.

“Let _me_ please you–” The boy's breath hitches when Erwin continues to suck at his arousal, reaching out to smooth over his lover's broad shoulders, “My King – _ohhh_...”

Erwin ravishes him, licks and sucks and bites at every inch of delicious skin he could press his lips on. He laps his way down the soft skin of Levi's balls and toys with it with the flat of his tongue and his boy keens, pants, _begs._ By the time he swirls his tongue against the entrance of his sweet heat Levi is already trembling at the pleasure, clawing at Erwin's hair, pleading for his King.

“Please, please,” Levi chanted, his eyes screwed shut, thighs trembling, “Take me, wreck me, _fuck_ –“

And the King declares back – _mine_.

Levi is tight and hot and so _slick,_ when Erwin spreads his ass apart and thrusts his tongue past his pink, puckered hole, and soon the taste of oil spreads in the King's palate. He fucks him with his tongue, his fingers, takes his sweet time, spreads his boy's walls as far as his muscles would permit with the minimum amount of pain he could produce. By the time Erwin has three fingers in, Levi is already pushing himself down, pleading for more friction, like an animal in heat, his small cock leaking copiously as it rested against his lean stomach.

He screams, when Erwin takes him. The blond's cock is covered heavily with oil but it does nothing to lessen the burn of his entry, because Levi is so damn _tight_ and perfect and Erwin feels like he's on fire, the blood in his manhood pulsing so hard at the pressure around it that it takes his breath away for a moment. Levi's eyes are wide, his back arched, lips parted in a silent cry. Erwin dips down to drink in his moans, and the boy relaxes just a bit at his kiss, but as soon as the King starts to move, he wails, nimble hands shooting up to reach for Erwin's shoulders, hanging on for support.

“ _Gods,_ ahh,” Levi could only whimper, eyes watering, cheeks flushed, face scrunched up in pain. Erwin kissed his tears away, lapped up his shouts, lulled him into a slow rhythm of in and out and in and out until his boy is panting more of the pleasure than of the pain. When the ring of muscle inside of his partner loosens enough for him, he snaps his hips sharply, bucks in him hard, fucks him until Levi can only moan and plead for his King to go harder, faster, deeper, more and more and _more_ –

And it amazes him, how well the boy can take him. His girth spreads his hole wide and his length fucks him oh so _deep_ but Levi accepts him, swallows him in his glorious heat, like he was made exactly for Erwin.

The King curses when he empties his seed, and the boy gasps at the spilling warmth at the base of his abdomen. Levi's too dizzy and high to register anything else, having come thrice even before Erwin could, so he does not stir when his lover pulls out or when he wipes the mess on the flat of his stomach and in between his legs with a clean cloth.

Levi wakes up hours later, when the morning is yet to come. He is warm and comfortable underneath numerous blankets and soap smelling wolf and bear hides thick with gray, brown, and black fur. Fire is roaring still and kept a few arm's length away, sending waves of heat and mellow yellow light throughout the expanse of the room. For a moment, it puzzles him why he's still in the King's chambers and had not been carried back to Harem's Hall, but he doesn't mind as much when he hears the murmurs of Erwin's voice behind the double doors at the adjacent room. A King does what a King does, and after his duty is done, Levi will welcome him in his arms.

 

(At twelve, Erwin makes Levi his.)

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

Erwin married a woman named Zoe.

His queen is a Queen of her own in the east, her lands reaching far and wide into the arid deserts for miles and miles and to a large part of the coast where trade is lush and busy. Erwin rules the Northlands, the Mountains of the Three Sisters down to the Valley of Roses – a solid kingdom of cold, ice and snow and rare blue flowers. Zoe is nothing but warm, nothing but fire and energy, her sun-kissed skin a stark contrast to the pale complexion of his people.

She is beautiful in a way that is not like Levi is. The Queen's face is not devastatingly pretty – her eyes are brown, her hair darker, her cheeks not full but not too shallow. She is somewhat broad-shouldered for a woman, her hips narrow, her breasts small, and her curves not too prominent. But when she smiles the brown in her eyes shines like bronze, like gold – powerful and captivating, engaging. Zoe is rich and strong like the earth, solid and sharp and shockingly smart.

And Levi understands _why_ his King married her (and why she agreed to marry him – because fuck, they could rule the _world_ with their cunning combined, and they know this, oh, they know this so _well_ ).

The Queen is also kind, irritatingly so. Zoe smiles at him constantly, and it does not take Levi long to realize her smile is not fake, unlike everyone in the King's Court.

She teaches him things. A lot of things. Poetry, Politics, Swordplay, Art and Science – everything a whore should not know. Zoe curses at the sky of Erwin's kingdom because its always so cloudy, always snowing, and it limits her to show Levi the constellations. He just laughs at her, pulling her away from the windows so she'd continue to teach him how to knock a man out with a single jab.

After they toss around and laugh (Levi does not remember the last time he laughed, but it seemed such a long, long time ago), he teaches her how to please a man, how to _properly_ , please a man. Zoe looks sad after that, pained, even, and Levi gets angry at her, insulted. After all, what useful thing can a whore teach a Queen?

He does not talk to her, for weeks. Even his King had noticed, damn him and his knowing eyes, damn him for being away so much so he doesn't fully figure out why he's upset. In the end Levi confesses, leaves nothing unsaid, bares his feelings to his lover, albeit with much difficulty, and Erwin understands, he _understands._

And Levi stills at the knowledge of his Queen being someone of lowbirth, someone who killed and _fucked_ her way up the system, someone who outsmarted every last remaining man and woman that stood in her way until she alone became victorious.

(Suddenly, Levi feels bad and jealous at the same time.)

When he comes to her, Zoe is the one that apologizes. Levi couldn't drag his words out of his throat but Zoe looks at him like how Erwin looks at him – _knowing._ Understanding. He kisses her gently because he doesn't know what else to do and she pulls him into a tight hug. The rest of the night is wasted on the Queen pointing up at the sky and tracing the stars with her fingers when the clouds cleared. Levi listened to every word.

 

(At thirteen, he experiences love inside the iron cage.)

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

He wears Erwin's crown as he rides him achingly slow one summer night.

“Fuck,” The King grunts as he watches himself sink and disappear into Levi's heat, reveling at the sensation. Both hands are on the boy's slim waist, guiding him steadily along his shaft.

“You like that, _Usurper_?” It has been long since he last called him that. Levi licks his swollen lips, one hand at his lover's muscled chest, the other keeping the golden, diamond and sapphire (and other blue hued gems he does not know the name of) encrusted crown on his head. “Like the drag your cock makes against my cunt?”

Erwin curses again, lifting his hips to thrust in Levi sharply. “ _Yes_.”

Levi loses the upper hand when his King fucks into him in a punishing pace, his thighs and legs nothing but mush around strong hips as he stayed on top, riding him, body kept in place with calloused hands. The crown lay forgotten somewhere in the bed, but Levi could care less.

When they subside from the high of sex, Levi crawls lazily, reaching out for the heavy crown so he could put it again atop his head.

“How do I look?” He smirks down on the spent man, arranging the jewel neatly against dark locks.

“Beautiful,” Erwin grins at him, adoring, pulling him closer to kiss him lightly, and Levi tries his best to hold back the warmth on his cheeks, his stomach fluttering.

 

(At fourteen, he gives his whole heart to the King.)

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

“Stop it, Levi.”

“Back to bed, Queen.”

“Is that how you talk to a _Queen?”_

“Shut up and get your firm ass over here.”

“I can hear Armin crying.”

“Your kid is with his wet nurse – gods, Zoe, take a fucking break.”

“Erwin?” Her chocolate brown hair is disheveled from their love-making a few minutes ago, and she is naked before the two men. “Aren't you gonna say something?”

Erwin's usually neatly combed blond hair is also a mess, as he lays against a sea of pillows, a thin coating of sweat on his bare chest. “My love, our son is alright... You know he just cries a lot. Come back to bed.”

Levi smirks at this, causing Zoe to groan.

“You just want your dick to be pleased,” She snapped, but it lacked venom.

“Well,” The King smiled lazily, “I won't say no to that.”

Another groan. Erwin watched as Levi slunk off to his wife's side, expert hands going up to knead at perky breasts as he engaged her in a brief kiss, but before he could enjoy the view, Zoe smacked the boy's head and pinched his cheeks.

“You're both too horny to reason with,” The Queen huffed, stomping away, yelping when Erwin moved forward to squeeze her ass before she could go out of reach. Putting her summer dress back on, Zoe pushed past the double doors whilst she fixed herself and into the adjacent meeting room, so she could exit, muttering 'men' and 'stupidly unbelievable' into the air.

“Promise you'll come back when your loud-ass kid stops crying?” Levi followed her, crossing his arms as she adjusted her dress to hide the bites both men left on her back.

“I have other things to do, I'm afraid.” Zoe almost smirked, now combing her hair with her fingers. “Maybe later. And put some clothes on, boy!”

Levi snorted and watched her go, only she paused, because upon opening the doors, a knight was in front of the doorway, who appeared to be in the process of knocking.

The young Sir paused, his fist dropping to his side, and took a step back, bowing as low as he could. “My Queen.”

“My Lord,” Zoe returned the gesture, dipping her head slightly and curtsying. “Does your business lie with me, good Sir?”

“No, Your Majesty. I only wish to give His Majesty my thanks.” Said the young knight.

“Ah,” Zoe turned to give Levi a look, and mouthed ' _put some clothes on_ ' before looking back at the soldier. “Wonderful. I'm off to my son then – he sounds like he's about to rip his own throat off if I don't intervene. Good day!” Then the Queen walked off, hurrying to her son's chamber to calm him down.

The knight bowed again at the woman's retreating form, before turning back to the door.

Now that Zoe wasn't blocking the doorway, Levi could now take a good look at the intruding knight. He was young – perhaps merely a few years older than him. He was tall and well built, with sun-kissed skin like the Queen. What was most striking about him are his eyes – blue mixed with green like seawater and grass. Levi never had seen such beautiful eyes.

“I-Is His Majesty busy?” He had been too engrossed at staring at the knight's eyes to realize that he was still naked before him. Not that he minded... The knight seemed to, though, since the poor lad found it hard not to stare at him.

“A bit,” Levi answered, sauntering toward the man. “What are you thanking him for, Sir?”

“For the chance to serve under his command.” The man straightened up.

Levi laughed, short and amused. “Well, aren't you an obedient little mutt?”

The young knight furrowed his thick eyebrows and took this as an offense.

“Come back later,” Levi found his anger amusing, poking the man between his eyebrows gently. “And go fuck something, would you? You're too tense.”

He walked back to the King's chambers, all while the young knight watched him, enthralled and angry at the same time.

 

(At fifteen, the King is not the only one, among others, who _wants_ him.)

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

It is without question that Levi is the King's favorite concubine.

Not that he has too many, for that matter. Before Erwin came to power, there were over a hundred whores that lived in Harem's Hall, and nearly a hundred more of his bastards from them. The past king was greedy – not only for cock and cunt, but also power and gold and land. Levi doesn't remember him too clearly, or, more precisely, he had wanted to erase him from memory.

He has a new King now. A better King: wise and kind. Stern and harsh if it is needed, but he is compassionate, he has heart.

“Love.” Erwin calls out to him one harsh, winter night. The Queen had retreated with their son back to her own lands because she cannot tolerate the cold, so Levi almost always accompanies him at night.

“Go back to sleep...” Levi mutters in response and buries deeper into the thick blankets for warmth. They fucked long and fast a few hours before, and that had his energy eaten.

“Wake up,” Erwin's voice is gravely from the lack of use. He kisses Levi's forehead, then a flushed cheek, before he slips his tongue past his lips for an intimate kiss. Levi follows on instinct, groggy still.

“You taste like shit,” The boy groaned softly, wiping away the wetness Erwin left on his lips.

The King only chuckled, and reached out for a velvet pouch. “I want to give you something.”

Levi shifts around plush pillows and props his chin on his hand, and waits.

Erwin opens the small pouch and extracts a gem Levi had never seen before. It is black and clear, gleaming against the light of the fireplace, casting a dark shadow on the King's pale hand. It is in the shape of a wing as tall as Levi's pinky, it's sides blunted out softly, cut ornately and precisely so as to mimic the natural ruffle of feathers.

“This is a blood diamond.” He placed it into Levi's open palm, and the boy lifted it up to the light to examine it.

“Doesn't look too red to me,” Levi remarked, making Erwin smile.

“It isn't red at all,” Erwin tucked the velvet pouch back to his bedside drawer and turned back to him. “Its only referred as such because it is so rare that people kill only to claim it as theirs.”

“That's comforting to hear,” Levi snorted, and moved closer so he could kiss him. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Erwin replied with a smile, before they joined again for another kiss.

 

(At sixteen, he distinguishes lust from love.)

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

They go to war.

The Castle of the Winterlords is built at the base of Mount Sina, the peak at the center of the kingdom. The Castle had been built and carved right out of the mountain's stone and served to be the home of the Ruling Family. There are three great towers built around the mountain, the tallest, so high that it almost touched the clouds. The Castle is strong, sturdy, unyielding. _Safe._ And there, is where Levi is.

Both Erwin and Zoe went to battle. The King fighting in the North, the Queen in the East. He would have liked to go with them – he is not useless, he knows how to fight, how to slice and parry with a long sword. What if they perish? How can he avenge them?

For weeks and weeks, he waits. Armin is now a bit older but still just a toddler. He cries less, but when he does, Levi feels like crying as well. The child _knows_ that his parents might not come back.

There are plenty of rumors, indistinguishable if they are lies or not. Levi knew better than to believe them. His King and Queen can rule the world. They can win the war.

A month later, Erwin won the war, but his Queen is lost forever.

To Levi, it does not feel like winning at all.

 

(At seventeen, he gets his heart broken for the first time. The iron cage is lonelier, colder. )

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

They visit the City of Mira, the capital of the Queen's Land. There is nothing but deserts in all directions except one, where the sand points to the Coast. Levi's heart aches when he looks everywhere – because everywhere reminds him of Zoe. The golden landscapes and the bronze-skin of the people, the exotic fruits and the hot, blowing wind. When he looks up to the sky, it is always clear, and he wonders for a moment how will it look like when the sun comes down.

This is her home, the land where she spilled her tears and blood and dignity and it is beautiful.

(But his Queen is more beautiful, the _most_ _beautiful_ woman, the only woman he will ever love. Zoe is the stars, the burning light in the dark, the golden heart and the steadfast earth Levi holds on to.)

The King manages both lands now. He does it effortlessly, even without her partner, but sometimes Levi could pick up the sorrow in his eyes and the subtle tilt of his head when he looks to his right only to find another there – not the one he had been expecting.

“Old man,” Levi calls out to him when a week passes and Erwin had done nothing but do work. A king does what a king does, but he has lost his patience long ago.

“Ah,” There are bags under his eyes when the blond looked up at him. “Levi...”

And he almost lets go of his quill in shock.

Levi had spend a long while with the Queen's handmaids. 'Handmaids' is a loose term, because they know almost everything there is to know – cook meals, prepare baths, speak many languages, ready whores, wield swords. And they know him, know him by heart, because Zoe had told them about him.

For days he had basked in their presence, listening to their stories while they scrubbed his skin clean of traveldust with smooth stones and honey and sugar paste and washed him down with steamy milk. Levi's hair is prepped with coconut oil and washed with lavender water until his hair is as soft and shiny as silk. They cut away every bit of unwanted hair on his body, smothering him with cold creme to ease the blade across his skin, before letting him soak in the hot bath infused with a variety of fragrant oils, willing his weary muscles to loosen.

After their chatter they sing in their mother tongue as they smoothed and massaged his skin with milk creams smelling faintly of sandalwood until his body shimmered under the firelight. They paint his eyes with thin lines of ink, write poems of passion in elegant curves expertly on his calves, and draw the insignia of Erwin's House at the nape of his neck – two wings spread out, one black, one uncolored. They dab some sort of powder that smelled strongly of jasmine to the center of his neck, on both of his nipples, then to the tip of his cock and down to the strip of skin of his entrance while they made him chew mint leaves.

Then he is suddenly garbed in cloth woven from gold – pure gold, true gold. The cloth is very thin and see-through, and Levi could note the craftsmanship on the weave, every individual thread coated and soaked with gold, patterned with rich yellow dots of silk. They slip the long, loose sleeves around him, and tied the end of each to his wrist with the same yellow silk in a neat ribbon. The golden net jacket hangs open on his chest and short on his abdomen, the ends decorated with little teardrop pearls that patted against his stomach whenever he moved. Matching pants had been fitted for him, made with the same golden net, the cloth open on both sides of his thighs and legs, the ends clamped with a thin strip of black silk on his ankles. Next, another long sash of golden silk is wrapped around his hips, enveloping him waist down in a short, rich skirt that is embroidered with patterns of jasmine flowers and littered with little flat circles of gold almost as thin as paper, so whenever he moved, he made a soft, clinking sound, like bells.

They fit numerous thin round rings of anklets and bracelets on his person – gold, silver, bronze, gem encrusted. They decorate his head with a chain of gold littered with small rubies that felt so light. Wrapped around the silk on his hips are belts adorned with jewels, pearls, jades. On his neck they place a single lace of silver containing the blood diamond the King gifted to him to which Levi had commissioned to be made into a necklace.

“You...” Erwin seemed to have lost any ability to speak, his mouth agape. “You are a treasure.”

Levi scoffed. “You think? I'm qualified enough to be a goddamned _treasure chest_ with all the shit they put on me.”

This made Erwin laugh. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the lines on his face getting pronounced, but it did nothing to rob him of his desirable features.

“Come here and let me have a look at you.” The blond said fondly, traces of a smile still on his face. Levi obeys wordlessly, twirling around slowly so the King could examine him.

“You're beautiful as always, my love.” Erwin remarked once Levi finished turning, kissing him softly on the lips to which the boy returned eagerly. When the King reached out for more, he pushed him back on his seat, and started swaying his hips, slowly, sensually, snapping them from side to side, letting Erwin stare at his barely covered nakedness as he moved. The ringlets of precious metals on his wrists and ankles, as well as the flat gold circles on his skirt, shook, making soft clanging sounds, serving as music as he swayed and danced and _seduced_.

It does not take long for Erwin to completely fall prey to Levi's charms, and they make love, right there on the desk amidst papers and letters of importance. Their fuck is not hurried, not fast and close to painful. They move passionately, lovingly, yearning. Levi gasps and calls Erwin's name several times, soft and almost unheard, and he stares up at the ceiling, noting the painted stars amidst black. He thinks of Zoe, thinks if she ever loved Erwin, or if Erwin ever loved her, and he cries, he _cries_ for the first time in a very long time _._ He couldn't stop.

Erwin holds him close, like he understands. He always does. There is sadness in his eyes when he kisses him on the brow. “Its alright.” He tells him. _Its alright_ , Levi thinks.

“I want to give you something.” The King started again when Levi's sobs are all but tamed. He fished out the same velvet pouch from years ago and produced a diamond – white and sparkling, in the shape of a wing, with teeth like projections on one side. Levi marvels at the beautiful gem for a moment, and recognizes the same pattern on the blood diamond on his chest.

“I gave this to Zoe the night before the war.” He lifted the black gem resting on Levi's skin and clasped it together with the other diamond, and it _clicks,_ both slides snug into place; the white diamond's teeth inside the black's, the black's carved feathers obscuring a part of the white's, like they were pieces of one; lock and key. And he recognizes it immediately – Erwin's insignia: the Wings of House Smith. _Liberty or Death_ , their motto rings in his head.

“It is yours, now.” He finishes with a smile, and kisses Levi on the temple.

 

(At eighteen, the King gives him his whole heart.)

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

“Come on,” He breathes out laboriously, sweat covering his forehead and back. “Is that all you've got, brat?”

Eren looks at him with annoyance but he takes up the challenge. “You know, I'm older than you. I should be the one calling you 'brat'.”

Levi scoffed, spitting out on the ground. “You wouldn't; you're too much of a bitch.”

The knight with teal eyes looked at him like he was the one who Levi spat at, and charged at him with his sword.

The pair keep at their parry, a hit there, a kick here (“You almost hit my crotch!” “That was the idea, you moron!”) and maybe a few punches when they both knocked the blades out of each other's hand. Sir Eren Jaeger is good with the sword, but even better with hand-to-hand combat. Too bad, because Levi is _much_ better.

“Fuck,” The brunette panted as he laid on the grass in the courtyard of Harem's Hall. “Gods, Levi, where did you learn to hit that hard?” He spat out to the side, revealing blood and– “Shit, you knocked my tooth out!”

Levi smirked at him triumphantly, catching his breath. “A woman taught me.”

Eren looked at him incredulously and slumped back down. “Well, _shit_.”

After a few more breaths, Levi padded over to the man's side, and sat down, wiping the blood off his split lip. “You avoided hitting my face.”

“I tried, yeah,” The knight admitted, staring up at the afternoon sky. Its getting colder now, when Fall approached. “I don't want the King to come home to you without your front teeth.”

“If he ever comes home, that is.” Levi mutters under his breath before he could stop himself.

Eren sat up and turned to him, bushy eyebrows furrowed. It reminded him of Erwin. “You don't think our King can win the war?”

“Only foolish men think that their Kings can always win wars.” Levi replied easily. “It has been months... They have battled too long.”

“That is only proof of our strength.” The knight insisted. “We are going to win.”

Levi envied Eren's faith. “Why were you stationed here to protect me? You're capable... You could have killed many in the front lines.”

The question seemed to frustrate the young knight. “I want to fight along side everyone, out there... I even voiced this, to His Majesty himself – not that I do not want to spend time with you, your company is welcome, always. But, Levi, you are known, so well, by many. Enemies and allies alike. You must know this, for sure. Our King adores you... If you are assassinated, it would be a great insult to him.”

“Our King is a fool,” Levi shook his head. _Our King adores you..._ “You are of better use in battle than in protecting a whore.”

The knight looked scandalized for a moment, but he resigned on shaking his head. “You are not just a whore, to him.” Eren's voice is softer, the smallest trace of a smile on his lips. Levi found it hard to tame his heart at the meaning of the words.

“What am I to _you?”_ He adds in that syrupy lilt he often uses with the men he'd been with. Levi had found out that teasing the knight was the most excellent form of entertainment (or distraction, in this case.) “Hmm, Sir?”

Eren flushes immediately and looks away, his composure broken. It takes Levi all his will not to laugh. What a fucking _child._ “You are not just a whore to me, either.”

He's actually surprised Eren answered him instead of just blushing to the roots of his hair and stuttering out an excuse to change the subject. “Then what am I?”

“A friend.” Eren replied finally, _honestly._

Levi snorted and smacked the knight on the head and challenged him to another bout of sparring.

 

(At nineteen, he experiences another brand of love. The iron cage doesn't seem so cold and lonely anymore.)

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

The war is won, but Erwin comes back home with an infected right arm that smelled like rotting flesh (it probably is rotting) and he voices out his will to his right-hand and brother, Mikael, and his confidants, his friends, his trusted circle of advisers, and lastly, his son.

Erwin names Mikael King until his son Armin is of age, splits half of his riches to his brother, half to his son, and frees Levi of his service, entitling him a small patch of land and enough gold and gem to spend the rest of his life comfortably, on his own. There are a lot of other things he says, things he talks about, before he signs his name messily on the parchment and certifies it with his own personal seal.

Erwin sends everyone away and talks to his son privately, then his brother. When he calls for Levi's company at last, he's already heavily heaving and chalk-white. His room smelled like death.

“Levi,” His blond hair is unkempt, and even at his distance, Levi could note a few silver hairs on his golden mane, the toll of war on his handsome face. “Come here, Levi.”

He obeys wordlessly, studying his features. “You look like shit, my King.”

Erwin manages a laugh, but it is weak. “Well, I think I look quite good for someone who's about to die.”

Levi bit the insides of his cheeks and moved forward, reaching out to wipe the sweat off Erwin's temples. He's burning hot. “You are a fool, for getting hurt. A fucking fool.”

The lines on Erwin's face deepened when he smiled. “Levi, listen to me... You no longer have to stay here. I have given you a land to live in Mira – I know you like it there... Servants are waiting for you there, Levi... You are free.”

“I don't need your pathetic attempt at consolation,” He wanted to snap more venomously, but it just sounded bitter instead. Erwin is staring at him with those fucking blue eyes again. Knowing. Understanding. “Its fucking too late for that.”

“I'm sorry.” Erwin smiled again, sincere. Levi looked away; the smell of festering wounds made his eyes water.

(That's what he tells himself.)

“Shut your mouth and breathe.” Levi sucked a lungful of air and dipped down to kiss his King gently. Erwin responded, just barely.

“There is a pitcher of milk on your side,” He tells him, when they part. “Pour me a glass, will you?”

Levi nodded, his fingers shaking as he took the silver pitcher and poured the white, sweet-smelling liquid in the goblet, filling it close to the brim. He wants to throw it away, to send it flying into the cliffs, because he _knew_ what was in the milk. He knew that it was not all honey and vanilla but also heavy infusions of hemlock and poppy and he curses Erwin in his mind for sending the Maester to concoct such a drink.

“Its alright.” Erwin soothes him, holding his hand to steady him as Levi handed the cup to the King, spilling the contents slightly on the blankets as he trembled. “Its alright, Levi.”

After he downs the milk in four large gulps, he hands the goblet back to Levi and he wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he settles back on plush pillows.

“I want you to live a good life,” Erwin began, his old smile returning to his lips. “The life you deserve.”

“I don't care what you want, old man.” Levi purses his lips as he grips the goblet hard in his hand, and slams it on the bedside table before climbing up the bed to settle down beside Erwin, using his chest as a pillow, wrapping his arm around the width of his torso. The King groans softly at the added weight, but he doesn't push him away, only pulling him closer with his good arm.

“Promise me you will,” Erwin croaks out, his arm warm and secure around Levi's waist. “Promise me.”

“Sorry,” Levi shifts up so he could kiss his bearded cheek, “I promised you something else, a long time ago.”

Erwin smiles again, hazy eyes focusing on him. “I love you,” He speaks softly, calm and sleepy. The poppy is taking effect. “I love you, I always have.”

“I know.” Levi answers him, and presses their lips together one last time. “And you've always had _me.”_

Erwin closes his eyes after, his embrace loosening, and he sleeps.

Levi does not know when he starts crying.

It looks normal, to him. The warmth of him and the sight of him asleep on the very bed they had spent many nights of passion and much wanted release is common. Erwin looks relaxed, peaceful... But the stench of his death and the bittersweet taste of honey and hemlock on his lips betrays the illusion, and it all _shatters_ – the pain is sharp and stinging and Levi is shaking, sobbing, pleading–

Come back.

 _Please,_ come back.

What use are wings when the heart wants to stay? Erwin is his sun in the winter, the immaculate warmth, the only wings he will ever need to feel free.

Levi clutches the white and black diamond hanging on his chest. _Liberty or Death_ , his memory chants House Smith's words.

He pours himself a goblet of the white liquid and drinks deeply.

_Liberty or Death._

He chokes at the second cupful, but he drains the pitcher empty, and settles back on Erwin's side.

 

(At twenty, Levi makes Erwin his.)


End file.
